clownaround

i think this is how Iago felt
justified

tossing things
from
a
ten-story window
hoping to hit

and hurt

i think of the blonde alto
and how
one smothers

but
smothered pride
reminiscing wasted time
concocts plots

then
sits
in a corner
wearing the dunce cap

(brewing)

moral: never trust men in corners
you don't know where they've been